


Past and Forever

by CoffeeFairy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Sheriff Shiro, Soulmates, curtis/shiro but only for the drama not end game, deputy sheriff keith, future Sheith, past sheith, self doubt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeFairy/pseuds/CoffeeFairy
Summary: The paladins, minus Shiro and Keith, are accidentally transported into another timeline. They find out - once again - that Shiro and Keith really are soulmates, in any universe. Keith has loved Shiro since he was old enough to name the feeling, but now he has to watch his best friend as he slips further and further away from him. Shiro has always sought his happy ending but it'll take a new beginning before he can find the end. Sheriff!Shiro and DeputySheriff!Keith in small town soulmates AU. Angsty in parts with a happy ending!Excerpt:“Guys, we’ve ended up in an alternate timeline again.”“We can see that, Pidge, I’m more worried about this!” Lance pointed to the banner above the door in the large function room they were in. It read “Congratulations on your engagement, Shiro & Curtis!”“Who’s Curtis and what the hell sort of a timeline is it where Mullet and Shiro aren’t in love? It’s broken somehow.”
Relationships: Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a short story prompt for a writing challenge on Soulmates and it snowballed into something much longer - because it deserves it!

_ Unending Love _

_ I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times... _

_ In life after life, in age after age, forever. _

_ My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs, _

_ That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms, _

_ In life after life, in age after age, forever. _

_ Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain, _

_ Its ancient tale of being apart or together. _

_ As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge, _

_ Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time. _

_ You become an image of what is remembered forever. _

_ You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount. _

_ At the heart of time, love of one for another. _

_ We have played alongside millions of lovers, _

_ Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting, _

_ the distressful tears of farewell, _

_ Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever. _

_ Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you _

_ The love of all man's days both past and forever: _

_ Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life. _

_ The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours - _

_ And the songs of every poet past and forever.” _

_ ― Rabindranath Tagore, _ [ _ Selected Poems _ ](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2086297) __

  
  
  
  
  


“Guys, we’ve ended up in an alternate timeline again.”

“We can see that, Pidge, I’m more worried about  _ this _ !” Lance pointed to the banner above the door in the large function room they were in. It read “ _ Congratulations on your engagement, Shiro & Curtis _ !”

“Who’s Curtis and what the hell sort of a timeline is it where Mullet and Shiro aren’t in love? It’s broken somehow.”

“You know just as well as I do that our alternative personalities are shaped by our experiences. I mean I truly hated the version of myself we met back in March. She was awful. Maybe they’re different people here.”

“She was a pain, but still! This is unholy. I don’t believe there is a reality, anywhere, where Keith and Shiro don’t wanna bang. Besides, if Keith knew we let Shiro marry some rando, he’d kill us and cremate us slowly in a toaster oven and...Wait, where  _ is _ Keith?”

“I don’t think he and Shiro were in the blast range of the wave, it may be that-”

Hunk interrupted her, “There’s one Keith, anyway.”

It was indeed Keith, if an older version by a few years. His hair was pulled back and he was wearing a suit. 

“He looks good in this timeline,” Allura mused aloud.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance muttered. “He’s just older, is all.”

They watched as the Keith of this timeline walked deeper into the room. About halfway, he stopped in his tracks. None of the paladins had to turn to know Shiro had just entered his line of sight. In quick succession wistfulness, pain and longing crossed his face. Then he straightened, smoothed his face as if it was a lake calming after a storm, blank and shallow. A pasted on smile was added to it, and then he started again for the front of the room.

“Oh, that is _messed_ _up_ ,” Lance breathed.

At the front of the room, Shiro lit up when he spotted Keith, but he didn’t let go of the man whose hand he was holding, just waited for Keith to reach him. They spoke for a moment, what looked like congratulations from Keith, gushing from Shiro. 

“I think we should leave,” Pidge said quietly. 

“I agree, I’m done with this weird-ass timeline.”

“I don’t know how you think we’re leaving this reality, Lance, but I meant we should leave the party. We don’t know who we are here, whether we’ve taken our other selves’ places or not. It’d be awkward to start a doppelganger situation.”

The reality of the situation seemed to dawn on Lance. “We’re stuck. We’re stuck here, watching Mullet pine for Shiro. Again. I thought I’d done my time, it was  _ four freaking years of it _ .”

“Shh, let’s just go.”

  
  


o.O.o

  
  


It hadn’t taken Pidge long to find an open access computer, and then piece together their histories. To the combined relief and chagrin of the group, they appeared to have no doubles in this reality, which meant they’d have to take their places. Now, sitting in a Diner, huddled over print-outs Pidge had made, they tried to formulate a plan for how to do it. 

“Okay, so as far as I can tell, Keith here is a part time farmer, with-”

“He’s a farmer?” Lance cackled. “Does he wear dungarees and a straw hat? Does he have a “moo moo here” and a “moo moo there”?

Unperturbed, Pidge continued over him, “- a decent acreage. Mostly it’s used for wood but he grows vegetables and stuff nearer the main house. No “moo moos”,” she sent Lance a glance. “He also works as a part time deputy, to Shiro who is the town sheriff. The man Shiro’s marrying, Curtis, is the town doctor.”

“How is Mullet supposed to compete with that? Look at him! And he’s a doctor.” Lance pointed to the picture of Shiro’s fiance smiling up from the table.

Allura smiled. “I’m sure Keith is smart, in any timeline, and he’s just as handsome.”

“You’re being very complimentary of Keith today.”

“So are you, you just haven’t noticed.”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that I am done with watching these two morons pine after each other. It took too long, put us all under strain and I think I developed an ulcer from not expressing  _ my _ emotions - that they should just  _ get it together _ !”

“I’m sure they’d be grateful to know they have such a staunch supporter in you,” Allura said and patted Lance’s hand.

“Anyway.” Pidge’s tone was clipped. “Hunk appears to own the town restaurant which he has taken over from his parents who are retired now. Allura, you are the mayor of this town, the youngest in its history.”

“The mayor?” She blinked. “I have no clue what that entails.”

“I’m not sure either. Hopefully you’ll pick it up fast.”

“I’m working at an observatory out of town, with the rest of my family. I really hope they’re all their normal selves because pretending to be someone else around them would be hard.”

“And what about me?” Lance asked.

“You’re a part-time waiter in Hunk’s restaurant, and you do some shifts at Keith’s farm.”

“I-what-now?”

“And that’s what we do. We met in-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hang on a second. You”, he pointed to Pidge, “are a scientist, Hunk is a business owner, Keith is a landowner slash deputy sheriff and Allura is the freaking mayor but I’m a part-time farmhand?  _ Keith’s _ part time farmhand?”

“I didn’t make this up, Lance, I just looked it up. I can’t help whatever career decisions your alternate has made.”

“Well, clearly he’s made none!”

“In any case, it looks like we all met in high school. Allura, you were in the same class as Shiro, with the rest of us, including Keith, in the class below. As far as I can tell we all met in an after school club for...aikido. That’s not too far enough from what we’ve used in battle simulations practice, we should be able to at least fake it if need be.”

“I have a question.”

“Yes, Lance?”

“How do we leave this timeline?”

“You know just as well as I do that we can’t leave the timeline by clicking our red heels. Hopefully Keith and Shiro will be able to get back to the Atlas and start the search through the reality branches for us.”

No one responded. The thought of waiting for rescue was too bleak for anyone to entertain.

  
  
  


o.O.o

  
  
  


The blue pick up was old, made odd noises and he could feel its reluctance on hills with a gradient higher than 0. But it was the car the Lance in this universe drove so here he was. Steering with one eye on the directions Pidge had written down in her impossible handwriting, he tried to stay on the road while he squinted at what could either be “Keep straight on, then turn left at the bird feeder” or “Keep height, then make a right at blind seer”. As he saw a miniature house on a pole to the right he took the left and hoped for the best. 

A minute later a large house with a porch wrapped around it appeared. Half of it was clad in glass and Lance wondered if there was a lot of money in organic vegetables. Or deputy sheriffing. Next to the house, a bit further away was a barn, a pasture and what he judged from a distance to be chickens. He’d grown up in rural New Mexico so he wasn’t unused to farms but it had been a long time since he smelled the outdoors as he was right now. Getting out of the truck he looked around for Keith.

As if by telepathy the man appeared. Dressed similarly to Lance himself in a long sleeved t-shirt and flannel shirt with worn jeans and work boots, he came out of a wooded area to the right. A dog as large as a small horse came trotting behind him and when he spotted Lance gave a delighted bark and came bounding. 

Knowing from Pidge’s mention the dog was named Kosmo in this timeline as well, despite having no teleporting powers, he bent and braced. A second later his arms were full of wiggling fur. The dog licked his face, his tail wagging so he might fall over. 

“You’re late.”

The dog’s owner spoke, his voice unimpressed. 

“Ah...yeah. Sorry. I…” He couldn’t really tell him he’d gotten lost as he’d supposedly driven this way hundreds of times. “I got sidetracked.”

Keith just rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Can you water and fertilize the vegetables, then we’re getting an early order of Christmas trees on the truck. I felled them, just need to load.”

“Christmas trees? It’s November.” Right? It was November in this timeline too?

“I don’t need to get it. Some stores start Christmas before Halloween is over. Whoever wants to pay that much money for a decade old fir can have it and I won’t ask questions.”

Even for Keith, his voice was tight. Lance’s mind went to the terrifying blank look the other man had pasted over his features at the engagement party last night. He didn’t know what it was like to watch the love of your life get engaged to someone else but as he imagined it couldn’t be fun he just shrugged in response. No need to make Mullet’s life more miserable than it already was. Or his own, the other man didn’t respond well to teasing and he was definitely prone to taking his mood out on others.

Happy he’d helped out enough in his mother’s garden to know what to do, he took care of the vegetable patch. By the time he’d finished he was both grimy and tired. Keith appeared from the barn, and when he got close enough, tossed him some work gloves. 

“Okay, let’s get them loaded. They only want 40 to start so we should be able to do it ourselves.”

It turned out this wasn’t the joke Lance thought it was. He had to head into the forest, on a little path, grab a tree from the weird patch where they grew, smaller trees in the middle of a real size forest, and drag it down the path to the waiting pick up truck. There was no way the car would fit on the path but he really thought Keith should consider widening it because it turned out dragging trees was both time consuming and sweaty work. 

Ignoring Pidge’s warning voice about interfering in the timelines in his head, he tried to fish for information about the past. 

Keith was, as Lance suspected he was in any universe, terse and taciturn. A man of few words, he only responded when asked direct questions, contributing little. 

“So...great party last night.”

Keith gave a one shouldered shrug before heaving the tree he was dragging into the bed of the truck with a surprising ease for its bulk. Struggling to breathe normally, his breath misting in the air around him, Lance soldiered on. 

“Good to see Shiro so happy.”

“Mhm,” was all the response Keith awarded, already heading back towards the patch of trees.

Hurrying, Lance tried to heft the tree as Keith had. In the end he had to push it to standing, then tilt it until it fell into the bed, and then shove it into place. Pleased with himself, sweating profusely, he saw Keith was already back again with yet another tree. 

“Still, it seems a bit fast to me, they’ve been together...how long now?”

Lance was taking a stab in the dark, but he guessed if Keith was unhappy about Shiro’s engagement, any time that came before it happened would seem too short to him. 

“Eight months.” Keith looked like he was surprisingly close to the exact date and his eyebrows knitted. “Give or take.”

“Eight months? Why the hell are they getting married, they haven’t even known each other a year!”

“They’re happy. In love.” 

Lance trailed after Keith as they once more returned to the patch. “Yeah, but eight months? I’ve had rental DVDs for longer.”

“You know Shiro, he’s a romantic. It was love at first sight, or whatever.”

Now they were getting somewhere. Lance was too distracted by the discovery to mind he ended up with the bigger tree, just dragged it behind him like the world’s largest toy on a string. 

“So he just went from single to engaged in eight months.”

“I guess so.”

Lance wanted to roll his eyes. This was like pulling teeth along with pulling trees.

“Why was he even single in the first place, huh? He’s a good looking guy, a police officer, you know?”

Keith shrugged again. Did the man have no single independent thought under that messy hair of his?

“You’d think guys would be lining up the block to get to him.”

“You know they always have. Shiro just doesn’t...notice. At least not since Adam.”

Lance perked up. So there was an Adam history in this reality too. 

“I guess it burned him,” Lance nodded sagely though he had no idea what happened. He wondered if Adam was a tool in this timeline as well, in which case it was even less sad he wasn’t in the picture. 

“Shiro always takes his relationships, and his break-ups, seriously.”

“What about you?”

Lance fished, but he defended it to himself that the question could be interpreted in different ways.

“We never really broke up. It just...ran its course.”

Lance perked up. There was a Mullet and Shiro history too? Maybe there was precedence.

“Ran its course?” 

  
“It was high school. Eons ago. Now will you pick up the pace? We’ll be here until tomorrow.”

  
  
  


o.O.o

  
  


**Fifteen years ago**

Keith and his dad had moved to Altea when his dad had been offered a job as the chief of the small fire station in town.Despite not liking moving away from the house where he’d lived with his wife, the better pay had weighed heavy. As a single household it had been hard to make ends meet with a mortgage he and Keith’s mother had taken out on two incomes. So after long deliberation he’d uprooted them both and moved to a part of the country neither of them knew. Keith had been eleven years old and he’d tried to be brave about leaving his school and his friends behind. On the first day in the new house, an elderly couple had been the first to come knocking to welcome the small Kogane family. They had a boy in tow.

They’d introduced themselves as the Shiroganes and offered to let Keith come over any time as “all the kids in the neighbourhood do”. Then they’d pushed the boy, taller than Keith by a head, wider and stronger in every way, forward. Recent braces and a terrible bowl cut had made him supremely uncomfortable and he squirmed, mumbling under his breath that his name was Shiro. 

Keith, never at ease in any social situation, had mumbled “Keith,” back.

His father had in what young Keith had thought of as an act of grave betrayal told them to “go out and play”.

“Da-ad,” he’d hissed, knowing that twelve-year olds were world weary and cool creatures who didn’t  _ play _ . His dad, usually attuned to his wishes, had completely missed the exclamation and ushered both of them out into the yard. 

For a minute they had both stood, staring at their feet. Keith had felt an urge to run and not come back until the strangers were gone. Then the boy had quietly asked, “do you want to play?”

In that one moment Keith had been ready to die for that boy. Twelve years old, taller, wiser, and willing to play with  _ him _ . 

He shrugged, narrow shoulders in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt. 

The boy took it as acceptance and lit up. “Do you want to play space rangers then? Or jedis? Or astronauts?”

“Space rangers?” 

Keith had asked what it meant but Shiro had heard “Space Rangers!” and immediately launched into some complicated backstory about worlds at war and rescuers of the universe.

And since that day, they’d been friends. 

  
  


o.O.o

**Present**

Keith heard the car and his shoulders tensed. Most cars did the same to him as he liked to be alone. Up until a few months this particular one had been one of the few exceptions. But he’d place the engine anywhere, just like he could the steps that would soon follow, the exakt bark of his dog to greet this particular visitor. And all of it made something that had used to be simple and easy into an ordeal.

Forcing his shoulders to relax by conscious effort, he headed out onto the deck. As he already knew he would be, Shiro was greeting Kosmo who jumped and preened and generally behaved as though he was a dog about half the size he actually was. Used to it, Shiro was unperturbed by muddy paw prints on his person as he rubbed the dog. A small part of Keith was jealous that his dog got to greet the man with all that open enthusiasm and have it be welcomed. As that small part made him think himself ridiculous, he pushed it to the back of his mind. 

Shiro was freed from Kosmo’s attention for a minute while the dog raced to get whatever stick or toy he would then hopefully drop in front of Shiro’s feet for the foreseeable future. It gave the man a chance to walk up the drive. The smile Kosmo had put on his face was still there and widened into one of greeting when he spotted Keith on the deck. 

In his chest, Keith’s heart lifted before leadening, as it always did. Seeing Shiro was always like facing a miracle but it had been a double edged sword for years. That was the best way he could describe it. Shiro was his safety, his in the way he always knew to find him by his side. But at the same time for every hurt he soothed, Keith got a new wound to tend. Because he wasn’t his in the way his foolish heart refused to stop wishing for. 

“For me?” Was the first thing Shiro said, pointing to the beer Keith had in his left hand. 

Nodding, he held out the second beer he’d taken out of the fridge when he heard the car on the gravel drive. He took the opportunity to drink from his own. 

“Thanks. It’s been… a day.”

Keith sat, knowing he didn’t have to invite Shiro to join him. They’d been friends for so long now Shiro was as at home at Keith’s as he was in his own house. The way Keith had been at Shiro’s until very recently. Until the place wasn’t only Shiro’s anymore. 

“What kind of day?”

Shiro squinted out over the yard, towards the fields and hills in the distance. The house was far enough from the town that you could imagine you were the only person in the world. Something Keith appreciated. 

“Long. Cosby and Bray were at it again.”

The two neighbours had been feuding for an original reason no one remembered and at least two or three times a year they got into such a row the sheriff had to be called. Or his deputy. Keith had been out there on several occasions attempting to arbitrate whatever ridiculous argument the two old men had gotten into.

“What was it this time?”

“Cosby called, maintaining Bray has been putting up a new fence that is actually on Cosby’s grounds. Bray states it is on his side of the partition so actually he’s doing Cosby a favor, allowing him an inch of his own grounds on the other side of the fence. They refuse to get a lawyer to examine the titles, just dragging up old hearsay about the land division. I think I was out there, listening to them for almost three hours.”

He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It was stupid, as it always is, but they seem to take some perverse pleasure in prolonging this conflict.”

Keith knew that Shiro was a classic example of the “serve and protect” instinct. He’d become a police officer because he genuinely believed he could help people. Arbitrating land disputes wasn’t something that he took lightly, just as he took none of his work responsibilities lightly, but Keith knew it weighed on him that he couldn’t get the two neighbours to get along, despite the fact that they had been fighting for years before he was even born. Despite that it wasn’t even close to his job description to play referee to the two old-timers.

“They like having something to care about. It’s like a hobby.”

“I get that, weirdly enough, I just wish I didn’t have to be involved. I feel like a pinata everytime I go out there, just waiting to be beaten up with a stick.”

“They’d never beat you up.”

Shiro laughed. “I meant figuratively.”

“So how did you work it out?”

“I took myself down to the Land Registry office and looked it up. Came back, measured it out. Bray was right, so the fence stayed. Cosby chewed me up for twenty minutes, talking about respect for history and tradition. In the end I had to remind him that there is also such a thing as respect for the law.”

A less conscientious man may have left the two men with an order to find lawyers, but Shiro wasn’t like that. He’d driven for an hour and half to the Land Registry and then looked over the ancient title deeds, before making the drive back and measuring it out himself. Then he’d been put in the line of fire for it as one party wasn’t happy despite the fact that the Sheriff had clearly gone out of his way to sort it to the best of his ability. 

What he wanted to say was that Shiro wasn’t responsible for the happiness of two old cantankerous men who were at their happiest plotting revenge for perceived slights against each other. That he had done all he could, and more, and sometimes you just couldn’t please everyone, no matter how well you did your job. He wanted to compliment him on the patience and care he had for the two feuding farmers despite knowing every time he got called out there it was for something utterly ridiculous. But words had never been Keith’s strength.

“Sounds like a long day all right.”

And yet, somehow, it was like Shiro understood all of things he hadn’t said, that still lay unspoken in his mind, refusing to take shape. 

Shiro chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah. Long day.”

In sympathy, Kosmo appeared and dropped a slimy ball in front of Shiro’s feet. Accommodating him, he leaned down and picked the disgusting toy up. Heaving it across the yard, Kosmo went bounding after it. 

“How about you, what did you do today?”

Keith shrugged. His days when he wasn’t on shift at the station were mostly the same, depending on the season rather than the day of the week. 

“Not much. Lance was even slower than usual. Loaded the first batch of Christmas trees, driving them tomorrow.”

“Christmas, huh? Can’t believe it’s almost time. Curtis is already talking about it.”

Curtis was a perfectly normal name. Yet the sound of it was always like a papercut to his senses. A tiny sting, then a nagging, itching sore spot for a while after. Every time Keith heard his name, a new one opened. It was a reminder of who Shiro had, who he’d chosen over Keith. He held no illusions about his own worth, knew a man like his friend could get anyone he wanted. Deserved anyone he wanted. And despite that knowledge, just the sound of Shiro’s fiance’s name still smarted every time he heard it. It was followed by a tolling echo, ringing in his head - “not enough”, “not enough”, “not enough”. You’re not enough. You never were.

So he drank some more, made a non-committal “hmm” sound. 

“He wants the whole package, tree, turkey, presents, eggnog, stockings, carols. I think he’s imagining now that he’s in a small town it’ll be just like in the movies.”

Keith sent Shiro a glance. From experience they were both aware Christmas Day was depressingly one of the Sheriff’s Office’s busiest days. Traffic accidents from people out on the roads to visit, domestic disturbances, drunk and disorderlies. 

“Are you...Will you be working?”

“I’ve booked it off.” 

He shrugged, the discomfort obvious to anyone who knew him well. Shiro didn’t like letting people down and he was well aware he could pretend he’d been cozily snuggled up at home all of the holiday but the reality was it was beyond unlikely. 

Slowly, Keith nodded. If Shiro wanted to pretend, he wasn’t going to burst his bubble. And he’d work double shifts over Christmas if it means his friend got what he wanted.

“Maybe it’ll be different this year,” Shiro said hopefully.

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, looking out over the hills. “Maybe.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brain: You should totally post Past and Forever, it's in pretty good shape.  
> Me: That's a bad idea, you know we're terrible at updating. Let's finish it, and then we can just enjoy the feedback and not have to work once we post.   
> Brain: Terrible. Terrible plan. Why would you be motivated to slog on? With a deadline, you'll work so much better!  
> Me: You think?  
> Brain: Yes! Besides, you think I don't know you? Please. I own your mind. I'll make you work.  
> Me: Okay, Brain, you're right. Let's do this!  
> Time passes  
> Me: Brain, about Past and Forever...we need to update it.  
> Brain: What story? I'm planning this multipart series with these long deep dives into the characters, really getting into the nitty gritty. Oh, I can just seeeeee it.  
> Me: That sounds neat, but we need to work on this one now. We posted it and all.  
> Brain: Well, why did you post it? Now we're all stressed. You know I can't work under pressure. I'm a creative, you have to let me be free.  
> Me: BRAIN, THIS WAS YOUR IDEA, FIX IT! WRITE IT NOW.  
> Brain: You know what would be cool? A coffee shop AU, I am really feeling in the mood for one.  
> Me:...I'm not going to win this, am I?  
> Brain: No. But on the bright side, coffee shop AU!
> 
> And this is why it took me a while to update. Blame Brain!

Shiro entered, hanging up his hat, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’m home!”

“I’m in the kitchen!” Came the response from inside the house. 

Padding in, Shiro found his fiance at the counter, chopping something while a pan boiled behind him on the stove. 

“Something smells great.”

“Stew. It seemed like the weather for it. I’m adding a salad as a nod to the preaching on cardiovascular health I’ve done today.”

Curtis had to be one of the most attractive men Shiro had ever met. With his dark, flawless skin, contrasted with bright blue eyes and dark hair, he was incredibly eye-catching. Dressed in jeans and a cashmere jumper he looked good enough to eat, and a little thrill chased down his spine at the sight. 

“That sounds amazing.”

“I hope it will be. How was your day?”

“Long. Do I have time for a shower before dinner?”

Curtis glanced behind him, judging something about the pot. Cooking remained a mystery to Shiro who could only guess that some sort of internal timing was happening in his fiance’s head.

“Absolutely. I smell dog, and it won’t go well with the Bordeaux I’ve picked.”

Shiro grimaced. “Sorry. Yeah, I went out to see Keith on the way back. I was out that way anyway.”

He didn’t quite know why he felt like he had to add the “I was out there anyway”, but it was nevertheless true. 

“Oh.” Something flashed in Curtis’ eyes but he’d bent over the chopping again too quickly for Shiro to place what it was. “How is Keith?”

“Fine. The usual.” As always he sensed there was something in the air when Keith’s name was mentioned but it was too intangible to name. “I’m going to have that shower.”

“Sounds good. Dinner should be ready when you’re done.”

Returning downstairs after his shower, dressed in an ancient baseball tee and jeans washed so many times they felt like velvet, he ran a hand through his damp hair to get it out of his eyes. 

The table in the bay window was set with napkins and candles, the way Curtis liked it. Before Shiro had met him, he’d usually eaten at the breakfast counter, with the small television for company. The table had only been used for the very few special occasions when he had someone over willing to eat anything he cooked. 

Curtis had to have heard him come down as he was just serving the steaming stew into bowls. 

“I’ll help,” Shiro offered, reaching out for the bowls.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it, just sit.”

There was no mention of it, no outright declaration, but somehow Curtis had taken up the role of caretaker. He’d never even alluded to it, but Curtis didn’t want him carrying a bowl of stew to the table, risking he’d drop it if he used his prosthesis. So he sat, while his fiance brought the bowls, then the bread, and finally the salad and the wine before he sat down himself. Shiro knew he did it out of love and attentiveness but he couldn’t help resenting it. He had one real arm and one fake but he was able to carry two bowls of soup. Striking the thought as uncharitable, he smiled instead as Curtis joined him. 

“This looks lovely, and, so do you.”

“Thank you,” Curtis grinned and picked up his glass. Glancing over, he sipped before clearing his throat gently. “I thought you were going to throw out some of those old rags?”

Shiro thought back to when that could have been and remembered Curtis had recently put boxes marked in his tidy writing in the bedroom. They spelled “Donate” and “Throw Out”. Shiro had agreed it was time for a clear-out, and had put heaps of old papers in the throw out box, Christmas novelty gifts and old paperbacks in the “donate” one. 

Automatically he looked down at the shirt, the washed out print greeting him like an old friend. “I like these rags. They’re just for wearing around the house anyway.” 

“Still, they’re all washed out. How about you keep them for painting and gardening? We could make a box for them in the garage.”

Curtis had never been impressed by Shiro’s dress sense. Coming from a big city, Shiro assumed the clothes Curtis had gifted him off and on “just because” were more like the clothes city people wore. The jeans were tighter, stiffer, and made him generally uncomfortable while the jumpers and shirts were all sumptuous and felt much too nice for anywhere he could go in the small town of Altea. At this time of year he lived in jeans, boots and flannels on the days when he didn’t need to be in uniform. 

“I’ll…” he reminded himself that Curtis had sacrificed a lot of his previous lifestyle to live in a town like Altea. He was used to living in a metropolis, used to a lot of the finer things in life that Shiro could never replace in a place like Altea. Dressing nicer for his partner was certainly not too much of a hardship. “I’ll have a look at it.”

“Great,” Curtis smiled so the corners of his eyes creased. It was the smile that had first set Shiro’s heart fluttering. 

Curtis had moved to Alte nine months ago to spend six months away from the busy city hospital where he worked. He’d needed a change of pace, to get on top of some of the stress he always carried. But he’d never planned to stay. Not until he’d met Shiro in any case. 

On the day they met, Shiro had been going in for a check up, as he did every two weeks, but he’d been nervous because he knew there was a new doctor. Doc Halliday had finally retired, at the respectable age of seventy-six. The old man had been the one who had seen Shiro since he was a child and not one of the city doctors he’d had to see after the accident had made him feel as safe as the brusque, no-nonsense doctor at the Altea town clinic. But he knew it was unfair to expect Doc Halliday to work forever, so he’d gathered his courage and entered.

The first thing that had hit him was that the new doctor wore a white coat. Doc Halliday had never worn anything but flannel shirts and the big knitted jumpers his wife made for him. The second was that the new doctor was young. The third thing was that the man smiling behind the desk was incredibly good-looking. The thought of taking off his shirt, baring the scarred remains of his right shoulder in front of him, made him nauseated. So he’d stopped, just inside the door, twisting his hands like a child about to enter the principal’s office. 

Curtis hadn’t blinked at the reaction, just gotten up from behind the desk, walked around it, and held out his hand.

“You must be Sheriff Shirogane. I’m Doctor Hamilton. Curtis Hamilton.”

Knowing he was staring still, Shiro had tried to pull himself together. He cleared his throat, managed a hoarse, “Shiro. Just Shiro is fine.”

“Shiro.” Curtis had smiled so the corners of his eyes creased. Shiro’s heart fluttered in response like a butterfly trapped against a window.

In February, close to the anniversary of their first meeting, they were going to be married. Shiro still couldn’t really believe his luck.

  
  


o.O.o

  
  
  


“It was like pulling teeth, as it always is with Mullet, but apparently he and Shiro used to date, back in high school. I tried finding out why they broke up but he zipped right up.”

Sitting in Hunk’s restaurant, before it opened, Lance explained the latest he’d managed to find out about the timeline. He was convinced, whether Pidge believed it or not, the timeline was out of whack and getting Shiro and Keith to admit they were in love was going to straighten it out again, like a knot in a thread unfurling. Once it was smooth, flowing, the people on the Atlas would be able to find them and transport them back. 

Pidge was less convinced.

“You need to leave it alone, Lance. You don’t know how messing around with this could affect the timeline.”

“Considering the effect we had on them for the past four years before they got together, I can safely say I will accomplish nothing.”

“You know the rules. Non-interference unless necessary.”

Since the end of the war, the members of Voltron had found more and more realities, new weapons aimed at time warping and universe breakthroughs beginning to flood the black markets. A lot of their time was spent hunting the perpetrators down, as well as trying to formulate a framework of rules. It was to this Pidge was referring. If you happened to end up in a different universe, you had to change as little as absolutely possible. 

“It is  _ so  _ necessary. I’m already feeling my ulcer, looking at this situation.”

“Lance…”

“Pidge, I refuse to believe there is a reality where Mullet and Shiro don’t belong together.”

“They’re different people here. It’s not our Shiro and our Keith, as you well know.”

“We don’t know that we  _ aren’t  _ the triggers for them getting together either.”

Pidge got the nerve tic by her eye and Lance knew he had to relent or fight. With his fists.

“Stay out of it, Lance, I mean it. Leave them alone.”

He held up his hands in defence. “Yeah, yeah. Spoilsport.”

But inside he figured leaving them alone didn’t mean he could avoid seeing them. It was a small town after all. A small, godforsaken shithole of a town.

  
  
  


o.O.o 

  
  


Keith entered the sheriff station with a bag of doughnuts in his hand, the other used to push open the creaking door. There was a tiny hall to keep the heat in during winter months, which then opened into a larger open plan office. Nothing in the room had changed since the latest remodel in the 90s, from the suspended ceiling tiles to the brown wall to wall carpet through to the beige walls and the dark veneer desks. The man at the desk closest to the door looked up when Keith entered. 

“Kogane,” he greeted him. 

Kolivan was a man of few words.

Nodding in reply, Keith walked past as the older man started to get ready to leave. 

Further in, a woman in her late 50s was busily typing on an ancient beige desktop. 

“Morning.”

She looked up and glanced at him over the rims of her purple glasses. “Officer.”

“Dot.”

Dispatcher for the day shift, she had worked at the sheriff station for longer than Keith had been alive.He found her to be rather intimidating but Shiro maintained she had had to develop the tough-as-nails image to avoid becoming the station’s unofficial cleaner, secretary and office mom back in the day. He knew she had grandchildren outside of town but couldn’t picture her in any situation that wasn’t behind her desk. Keith imagined that if the whole town suddenly froze in time, except for Dot, she’d still calmly get dressed in her cardigan, walk over, arrive at 8.05 promptly and sit at her desk all day. Even without anyone there to see, he’d bet she’d only take a 45 minute lunch where she daintily ate two sandwich triangles while reading a romance novel with some shirtless man on the cover. 

“Is that doughnuts?” Ina Leifsdottir popped her head out of the room where all the filing was kept. Still in uniform as one of their most recent staff, she appeared to have the nose of a bloodhound. In general her eye for detail had already impressed most of the team. 

“Maybe.”

“Did you get only cinnamon?” She sniffed the air. “I want a jelly-filled.”

“Lefsdottir, you’re a freak.”

She grinned. “You betcha.”

“And I got you a jelly.”

“That’s why you’re my favourite team member.”

“Uh-huh.” He’d heard her say the same words to Shiro the other day for showing her how to use the filing system on the computer. 

Steering into the kitchen - nothing more than a stretch of countertop with a sink and a microwave - he set down the bag. Leifsdottir was hot on his heels. 

“I better lay claim to the jelly one. Kinkaid might snatch it otherwise.”

“Go ahead.”

The blonde dipped into the bag and pulled out a pink donut with the face of Indiana Jones finding the Ark. Reverently she then sauntered away, donut held triumphantly aloft. 

Shiro passed her in the doorway, a mug of coffee in his hand. 

“Donuts?” In opposition to Leifsdottir, Shiro’s voice was resigned like he had been informed the rate at which the polar ice caps were melting was increasing. Again. 

“Yeah,” Keith shrugged. He could easily read the longing in his friend’s eyes.

“Are there any cinnamon?”

“Shiro, please, how long have we been friends?”

“Not long enough.” He smiled. “But cheat day isn’t until Friday.”

Knowing Shiro better than he knew himself, Keith just shrugged and turned to the coffee maker. “More for me.”

Shiro’s steps passed, then paused. A moment later the paper bag was crinkling. Coffee in hand, Keith turned. Shiro had a cinnamon doughnut already in his mouth.

“I hate you,” he said through the sugary carbs.

“Mhm.” Keith sipped his coffee and then a beat later the sugar kicked in and Shiro’s eyes lit up.

“Actually I love you. You’re a pinnacle among men. The best friend anyone could have.”

“You say that to anyone who brings you doughnuts. Now, are we going to kick off the team meeting?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we should.” 

Humming under his breath, Shiro headed out back towards the office. Keith drew a slow breath. Then another one.

His friend was affectionate, he’d never been one to hold back. He said he loved him, hugged him and showed he cared openly. But to Keith it was a sweet torture to hear Shiro said he loved him and know that in comparison to how he loved Shiro, it wasn’t the same. It came so close, was always so near like a word you’d forgotten on the tip of your tongue. But the word never got voiced, just hovered and held Keith up in perpetual waiting. 

“I love you too,” Keith responded to the air before he followed Shiro to the meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, I'm looking foward to finding out where this story goes!


End file.
